


darling i'm a nightmare, dressed as a daydream

by bloodredcherries



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 5 Things, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 13:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherries/pseuds/bloodredcherries
Summary: “You think that Betty is this sweet, innocent, girl next door, don’t you?”Betty Cooper is a mystery to Veronica Lodge, and Lodges are always good at solving mysteries.





	darling i'm a nightmare, dressed as a daydream

**Author's Note:**

> This is very au.

**Hermione Lodge**

 

“I don’t understand why you persist on hanging around with that girl, Mija,” Hermione told Veronica, and she openly rolled her eyes. “I’m  _ serious _ Veronica. You don’t know what that girl’s family is capable of.” 

 

“Right,” she drawled. “Because people are just  _ lining _ up to be friends with the daughter of Hiram and Hermione Lodge, who are  _ known _ for being capable of  _ terrible _ things. That’s why we’re stuck here in this podunk town, where we’re the laughingstocks.” 

 

“Do you know why we’re the laughingstocks of Riverdale?” Hermione demanded. “Don’t you ever wonder whose mother owns that paper? Who’s behind  _ every _ cruel word that comes out about us? All of those utter lies?” She slammed the paper down on the table, and Veronica jumped slightly. “Don’t you know who A. S. Jones is, Ronnie?” 

 

“Betty wouldn’t--”

 

“Oh, maybe  _ Betty _ wouldn’t,” her mother said, blasely. “I don’t know the girl further than I could throw her. Her mother, on the other hand…?” 

 

“Why is it that you don’t want people judging me on Daddy’s sins, but you see fit to judge Betty on her mother saying things that are the truth?” Veronica demanded. “It’s alright to demand things when it’s  _ your _ daughter, but not extend the same courtesy to others? That’s bullshit, Mom. Absolute bullshit.” 

 

“I don’t want you seeing that girl, anymore, mija. She does not want to be your friend.” 

 

“I don’t want to be her friend, Mom,” she snapped. “Betty is more than that. I want her to be more than that.” 

 

“And, I am telling you, no,” she said. “That girl--her family--I won’t allow it. Can’t you just date a nice boy? What would your father think?”

 

“Daddy doesn’t get an opinion on what I do anymore, Mom,” Veronica hissed. “And for that matter, neither do you. Why should I listen to either of you when all you do is lie to me and keep me in the dark, and make me look and feel like a social pariah.” She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. “What precisely is it that you don’t like about Betty? That you can’t control her like you controlled my friends back in New York? That her mother sees through you for who you are? Who Daddy is?”

 

“Your friend’s mother cost me a job, Veronica,” Hermione retorted. “Fred would have gladly hired me to work as his bookkeeper, had Alice Cooper not decided that one  _ tiny _ mistake from your father was the good start to a smear campaign.”   
  


“He’s on trial, Mom! For fraud and embezzlement! He didn’t jaywalk!”

“So?” Hermione raised a brow. “You had no problems with that when you were reaping the benefits. Now all of a sudden, that’s changed?”

 

“Maybe she’s right,” she sighed. “Maybe you just hate that she’s right.” 

 

**Archie Andrews**

 

“What was Cheryl talking about?” Veronica asked, as they left cheerleading tryouts, skipping to catch up with Betty, who had taken the question as an invitation to walk away from her. “That stuff about your sister...your dad? Your mom?” She reached out for Betty’s hand. “You can tell me, Betty. We’re friends.” 

 

“She’s lying,” the blonde snapped. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

 

Veronica could tell when she was being lied to. Her parents had spent her entire life lying to her, about things that were both consequential, and non. She wasn’t some stupid, shallow, rich girl, that Betty could just  _ lie _ to, like it was nothing, and get away with it. She was privileged, not an idiot. 

 

“I just don’t understand,” she said, trying to maintain her patience. “Everyone in Riverdale knows everything there is to know about what my dad did, you know what he did, why can’t I know what happened with yours?” 

 

If looks could kill, Betty’s would have. “My dad hurt people,” she said, after a moment. “He hurt my sister, and he hurt my mom.” She fell silent. “What more do you  _ possibly  _ need to know?” 

 

_ Why my mother says that I should stay away from you _ , Veronica thought silently, though she elected not to say so out loud. “I just think that we should be able to talk about these things,” she said softly. “You’re my friend. You don’t have to keep things secret from me.” 

 

Betty scoffed. “Telling people my secrets has only ever hurt me,” she said. “I’ll pass.” 

 

“B--”

 

“Look, V,” she said. “I get that you think that we’re BFFs or something because you got me on the cheerleading squad, and we  _ are _ friends. Don’t you wonder  _ why _ everyone in town knows about your father, and not mine?” 

 

“Mom says it’s because we’re big fish in a small pond,” she said dutifully. “That everyone in town hates us because we got out, because we made it big, and they’re relishing our comeuppance.”

 

“Right,” she drawled. “That’s totally it.” 

 

Veronica felt that she was missing something, even though Betty had agreed with her. “What else could it be?” 

 

“You said it,” she said. “The town is relishing your comeuppance.” She slid a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. “I have to go. My ride's here. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to get a milkshake with me?” She asked, hopefully. “Smithers can bring you home after.” 

 

Betty’s expression seemed regretful. “I can’t,” she said. “Mom needs me to come home. Maybe Archie can go with you.”

 

“I don’t  _ want _ go to with Archie,” she insisted. “I want to go with you.”

 

The red haired boy was cute, but Veronica Lodge was more fond of a challenge, and the enigma that was Betty Cooper was proving to be fully capable of holding her interest. Archie was just some attractive arm candy. 

 

“Sorry,” she said. “I can’t today.” Betty did not sound very sorry. Veronica scowled at her retreating form. 

 

“What’s with you?” Archie asked. 

 

“I just don’t understand why B just wants to push me away,” she complained. “Aren’t you her best friend? What is going on with her?”

 

“Things with Betty are complicated,” he told her. “She changed this summer. I don’t understand why. It was just an internship.”

  
  


**Kevin Keller**

  
  


“My mom said that you can come over today,” Betty told her, as she approached her at her locker, her hands clutching the straps of her backpack, and Veronica wondered if Betty was actually nervous at the thought. “Kevin and I are having our weekly sleepover,” she said. “I asked my mom if she minded if you came. Not that it matters, really. This weekend is her Women in Journalism Spa Retreat. She just wants to meet you before she leaves.” 

 

“Are you sure you want me to come over?” Veronica asked, her tone hesitant. “If this is your thing with Kevin, I don’t want to get in between the two of you--”   
  


“You don’t understand,” Betty said. “This is a big deal. She’ll be like, super offended if you don’t come. And, I want you there. It’s not Pop’s, but we could make milkshakes or something at home?” 

 

“If your mom’s going to be out of town, why can’t we just go to Pop’s? She wouldn’t even have to know.” 

 

“Mom knows everything,” she told her. “Plus, do you really want to go there and risk running into your mom? I know that she works there.” 

 

Veronica shook her head. She definitely didn’t want her sleepover with Betty to end abruptly if Hermione Lodge caught wind of the fact that she was spending the night with her, and she suspected that her mother seeing it with her own eyes would be disastrous, to say the least. And Kevin? Her mother had gone on a rant the previous evening about how little Sheriff Keller was doing to stop the daily dressing down that she received in the press. She doubted highly either companion would thrill the woman. 

 

“How did you know my mother worked there?” 

 

Betty arched a brow. “I hear things,” she said. “It’s a small town, you know how those go.” 

 

“I--” 

 

“Anyways, I have to go,” she continued. “I’m meeting Jughead in the Blue and Gold for a meeting before school.” Betty pulled her into an impulsive hug. “It will be super fun, I promise.” 

 

Of  _ course _ Betty had to meet Jughead in the Blue and Gold, Veronica thought to herself, a ferocious scowl appearing on her lips as she watched the blonde saunter down the hallway, her Vixen’s skirt rising tantalizingly with each step. 

 

“What’s with you?” Kevin demanded. “You don’t want to join our fantabulous fun night? You can paint my nails.”   
  


“I just don’t understand what Jughead has that I don’t,” she admitted. “I’ve been trying to get Betty to notice that I have  _ feelings _ for her, and all she cares about is him.” 

 

“You don’t know?” 

 

“Don’t know what?” 

 

Kevin chuckled. “Oh, you’ll see.” 

 

“What do you mean by that?” 

 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” he said. “I think that tonight will be...illuminating.” 

 

Kevin was being vague, and there was nothing Veronica Lodge hated more than vagueness. 

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

 

“You want to know more about Betty, don’t you?” He asked, the amused glint visible in his eyes. “She’s told me, you know.” 

 

“Told you what?” Veronica demanded. “What are you talking about?”

 

Kevin snorted. “You really have no idea, do you?” 

 

“No, I don’t know what Betty’s told you,” she insisted. “Why would I know that?”

 

“You think that Betty is this sweet, innocent, girl next door, don’t you?” Kevin asked, his voice low. “Perhaps a bit on the overprotected side, what, with her inability to drop everything to get milkshakes with you at Pop’s, or with that absolute fit that her mother had when she saw her in that cheerleading skirt?” 

 

Veronica nodded. “Yes, I mean, of course I do. Because she is! She’s the personification of the girl next door.” 

 

“Oh, honey,” he tsked. She arched her brows. “You’ll see.” 

  
  


**Mrs. and Mr. Jones**

  
  


Smithers dropped her off in front of the Andrews’ house, and Veronica waited until the limo had driven away before she dipped one house over, more than a bit intimidated by the stately home that was in front of her. Sure, it wasn’t the Dakota, or even the Pembroke, but Veronica knew when a residence meant that a person had some sort of money. Clearly, there was money to be found in Betty’s family. She was glad that she had rush ordered the cupcakes from Magnolia for Betty’s mother. After all, first impressions were everything. Quality, always. She was a Lodge, not some sort of plebian. 

 

She was inexplicably nervous. Her mother’s warnings flitted through her head as she stood in front of the stone steps that lead up to the front door, but she pushed them aside, as she fixed a bright smile on her lips, and smoothed out the front of her skirt, before heading up to the front of the house, and ringing the doorbell. Even though Riverdale was theoretically a small town where people left their doors unlocked (Mr. Andrews was one of those who did), Veronica sensed that she was not visiting a home that believed in small town hospitality. 

 

The door opened, to reveal a young girl, and Veronica felt herself fill with dread, as she wondered what evil things had befallen Betty’s sister, who was much younger than she’d expected. The way Cheryl had  _ spoken _ about Polly had made it seem like she was substantially older. This was a  _ literal _ child. 

 

“Hi,” Veronica said, as she forced herself to find her voice. “Is Betty here? I’m here for our sleepover.” The girl scowled. “Or, you know, I can just wait for her out here. I don’t mean to impose--”

 

“Forsythia?” A woman’s voice called from inside the house, her tone as clear as a bell. “Is that your father?” 

 

“It’s one of Betty’s lame ass sleepover friends,” she said in reply. Veronica gaped. “You want me to let her in?”

 

“Why  _ wouldn’t _ I want you to let her in? Honestly, JB, the things you say. Let her in, I’m going to settle myself.”

 

“I thought your name was Polly?” Veronica blurted out, unable to stop herself. 

 

“You thought wrong,” the girl said. “Polly’s--Dad said I wasn’t supposed to tell people that. Alice wants to meet you,” she shrugged. 

 

Veronica followed her into the house, even more confused than she’d previously been about the enigma that was Elizabeth Cooper, and she allowed herself to be led into a formally done dining room, which was set for twelve, but only contained one person. The blonde woman who sat at the head of the table was more focused on the bottle of wine that she was pouring into a glass, but Veronica noticed she was clothed impeccably, in a black leather dress that she wanted to ask Betty if she could borrow for her. 

 

“Elizabeth tells me that you aren’t your mother,” the woman said, as she gazed at her with a shrewd expression on her face. “She tells me that you’re not your father, either.” 

 

“Of course not,” Veronica insisted. 

 

“I knew your parents,” she said. “They grew up here, you know.”

 

“I know.” 

 

“I can’t imagine your mother knows you’re here, does she? Surely Hermione Lodge would never allow her daughter to associate with the likes of us?”   
  


“My mother doesn’t control what I do, Mrs…” She trailed off awkwardly. Betty was a Cooper -- Betty was  _ insistent  _ that she was a Cooper -- but she didn’t think that her mother was. 

 

“Jones,” she supplied. “Alice Jones. But you don’t need to be so formal with me. You’re Elizabeth’s friend. We’re all friends here. Sit. Make yourself at home.”

 

Veronica knew a demand when she heard one, and she sat down on one of the chairs, and placed the box of cupcakes in the middle of the table. 

 

“I brought you these,” she said. “One dozen cupcakes from my favorite New York bakery. I know you have your women’s journalists’ retreat, but, maybe you’d like one for the road?” 

 

“I can’t. I’m lactose free.” 

 

“Are you sure that it’s okay that I’m sleeping over?” Veronica pressed. 

 

“Why wouldn’t it be? Elizabeth is allowed to have sleepovers. We are a perfectly  _ normal _ family.” 

 

“I didn’t know you were going on a retreat,” Forsythia-Jellybean-not-Polly chimed in. “I thought you and Dad said--”

 

“We said nothing,” the older woman replied. “Nothing at all. Don’t you have homework to do?” 

 

“It’s Friday, Alice,” she snapped. “I’m not a loser.” 

 

“I--”

 

“Is Betty here?” 

 

“Yes, she and the Keller boy are upstairs,” Mrs. Jones-we’re-all-friends-here told her, and she smiled politely, hoping that she would take the hint and dismiss her. “You can--” She cut herself off mid-sentence, and Veronica watched her visibly brighten, and stand up from the table. “You’re home early.” 

 

“Yeah, well, Alice, you know how Fred is, always insisting that a work life balance is important. I thought I would see you off.” 

 

The man sounded familiar to Veronica, but she couldn’t entirely place why. Betty’s mother glided across the room, and she turned to see her hugging a man who was covered in sawdust, which made sense to her, because she knew that Archie’s dad ran a construction company. 

 

“Did you get the money?” She heard her whisper. “Did it work?” 

 

“She went crying to Fred,” he said. “He turned around and gave her a job. I told her that I don’t mix business with pleasure, but for her? I’d make an exception.” 

 

“Keep your voice down,” Mrs. Jones said. “It’s obnoxious enough that that harpy owes you money. I don’t want Forsythia telling everyone in town. Heaven help us if the Keller boy hears What if he puts this tidbit of gossip together with the call that she  _ surely _ made to Animal Control last night?” 

 

Mr. Jones laughed. “She knew what it was. Why do you think she involved Freddie? Couldn’t have the cops know that good ol’ Hiram can’t square up his old pal FP.”

 

“FP! The kids!”   
  


“The kids aren’t dumb, Allie. They know what I do.” 

 

Veronica found her voice. “What you do?” 

 

“FP, be quiet,” Mrs. Jones insisted. “We’re in mixed company. I was trying to tell you!”

 

“Who the hell is this?”

 

“Betty’s friend, Dad.” 

 

“You’re really her friend?” He demanded, as he pulled away from Mrs. Jones and stalked across the room to her. “This isn’t a plot to get to me?”

 

“Of course we’re friends,” Veronica insisted. “I wouldn’t do that to Betty. I wouldn’t.”

 

He grinned at her, his gaze almost feral. “Good. Betty’s a good kid. It’d be a real shame to have to use a snake on you if you screwed her over.” 

 

“He’s only joking,” Mrs. Jones interjected. “FP has a very dry sense of humor.”

  
  


**Betty Cooper**

  
  


“Are you serious? You didn’t know? Veronica, that’s Betty’s stepdad.” 

 

“FP is harmless,” Betty said from her bed, where she was flipping through a magazine. “He’s like a big teddy bear.” 

 

“He’s threatening my mom!” Veronica exclaimed. “They were downstairs talking about how my parents owe him money! Why would they?”   
  


“V,” Betty said, her tone soothing. “Your parents? Whatever it is you think they’re not doing? They are. And, maybe, they’re upsetting the wrong sort of people.” She reached over and patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, though, I think that they liked you.” 

 

“Your stepfather threatened to attack me with a snake if I hurt your feelings,” Veronica pointed out, her tone flat. “Does that sound like ‘like’ to you, Betty?” She turned to Kevin. “Your father is our Sheriff. Does he know about this?” 

 

“About what?” Kevin asked. 

 

“You sleeping over with a gang member as a chaperone? What did you think I meant?” 

 

“Leader,” Betty corrected. “FP is the leader of the Southside Serpents. It’s rare that he handles things like that. I wouldn’t take what he said to you to heart. He’s just…” 

 

“My dad understands,” he told her. “Maybe you should tell her, Betty. Before she finds out through someone else.” 

 

“Mom and FP got married over the summer,” she said, her tone prim, and Veronica watched as she picked at the scabs that were on her palms. “I’m told it was nice, though I wasn’t there. I was being treated for--my  _ dad _ he--”

 

“Archie said you were at an internship,” she pointed out. 

 

“Yeah, I had my mom tell him that because I was embarrassed about it,” she muttered. “Did you hear about Jason Blossom?” 

 

Veronica shook her head. “What was he? Your boyfriend?” 

 

“No,” she said. “Polly and Jason were dating. I think they were pretty serious, too. My parents, they hated it. My dad…it’s my fault, really,” she sighed. “He thought that the pregnancy test that he found in our bathroom was mine--he thought that Archie and I had  _ done _ things, I swear we hadn’t. He said that it would be okay if I was, that things would work out. So I told him that it wasn’t me. It was Polly.” 

 

“He and Mom argued about it, then he and Polly argued about it, and things got super weird.” She sighed. “To make a long story short, Polly killed Jason, but my dad put her up to it. My dad...he tried to kill me and my mom.” 

 

“And your mother just...remarried?”   
  


“Have you seen what he looks like?” Kevin asked. “I’d marry that man too.” 

 

“Kevin!” Betty chastised. “That’s not appropropriate. Anyways, I guess they have some torrid past, or something? My mom is all about appearances, anyways. She would have never let him live here if there wasn’t a ring on her finger.” 

 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

 

“It’s embarrassing,” she said. “I don’t like how much things have changed. I don’t want people to look at me like they look at you, V. I’m not strong enough. “I couldn’t handle it.” 


End file.
